


Concerto in B Minor

by Lightbulbjokes



Series: The Antipasto re-write [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anthony isn't there for long, Dark Will, Episode: s03e01 Antipasto, Florence - Freeform, M/M, Season/Series 03, Will Graham is a Tease, Will fucking with Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-10-21 06:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17637461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightbulbjokes/pseuds/Lightbulbjokes
Summary: Hannibal is well past ready to murder Roman Fell and move out of Paris when he runs into Anthony Dimmond who's partner seems suspiciously familiarPretty much a complete re-write of Antipasto where Will is way quicker to get to Europe and discovers Hannibal in Paris. Dark Will being the petty little bitch he became during season 2 and fucking with Hannibal to get some comeuppance (he also does a little fucking with Dimmond if you get what I mean)





	1. Allegro

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the enthusiasm people had for this AU on twitter.  
> This has been rattling around my head for a while so I wanted to try my own had at it.  
> Takes place from Hannibal's POV because that's the only way I can let my pretentious writing style free. A bunch of dialogue is lifted directly from the show and so is some the movement but all the internal and clearly non-cannon stuff is mine  
> Also the Title refers to Dvorak Cello Concerto in B Minor link: https://youtu.be/190faUQ7xJg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shout of to my bff @pure_enthusiasm on twitter for editing and generally making this chapter go from something I'm okay with to something I genuinely love. Your'e the best bro a dude could ask for buddy.

The streets of Paris glowed a quiet blue-gold in the twilight fog. Meanwhile, in the vibrant world of those who considered themselves wise and learned, those who were fools like the rest- wealthy fools, perhaps, but fools nonetheless- parties were being thrown, even on nights such as these. And these nights, as Hannibal Lecter knew, were all but made for games like the one he played now.

The bronze and marble room bloomed in otherworldly tones of warm champagne. It was as if the walls themselves had heard the old money names of tonight's attendees, and were shining twice as bright so that no one would miss that they had made an appearance. The radiance felt forced. After the dark blues and steel grays of Hannibal's Baltimore home, he thought he would be dazzled by the gold and silver and warmth of Italy- but he couldn’t quite bring himself to appreciate it. And he really should have felt out of place in a leather jacket- would have, if he were still in Baltimore- but he had long ago decided that sometimes practicality had to outweigh the strange comfort of formality.

The man who had gone by Hannibal Lecter for most of his life scanned the room. His target wasn't hard to find. He hadn't been Hannibal's first choice of victim, but when plans change, one needed to adapt. And the Chesapeake Ripper was  _ exceptionally _ adaptable. Besides, Roman Fell was perfect for what Hannibal had in mind now. 

He had already begun to make his way through the crowd, prize locked in sight, when he felt a familiar pair of eyes on him. He couldn't help but pause to find their owner. 

It wasn't Will. Of course it wasn’t. The man  _ looked  _ like Will, though, and Hannibal wondered what he could do to this pale imitation of his beloved, given the time. He would be starting from a little further than he had with Will, if the well-coiffed hair was any indication, but not too much further, if the two glasses of champagne in his hands had anything to say about it. Hannibal considered a first move but it quickly proved unnecessary. It seemed the man had noticed Hannibal, as well.

"Anthony Dimmond," The stranger said as he approached, warm voice and sweet vowels adopting the quality of a fine honey. 

"Boris Jakov," Hannibal responded, inclining his head politely. He tried to infuse the passion Will had naturally inspired into the words, hoping Dimmond would pick up on the offer.

"I would offer a hand, but…" Anthony gestured with the glasses.

"Ah, yes. It's a double fisted kind of bash." The inuendo dripped out of Hannibal's mouth before he had a chance to think through what he may be offering. The man laughed. White teeth flashed in the golden light.

"Do you know Roman well?" He asked curiously. "You were staring with the thinly veiled disdain of someone who does.”  _ Ah.  _ There it was. Hannibal hadn't misread Anthony’s interest, only where it was directed. He paused for a moment and thanked his stars that Anthony made for such a talkative companion. And a keen eyed one, at that. But not too keen- he seemed to have missed Hannibal's slightly more obvious intentions.

"I was his TA at Cambridge," Dimmond explained, apparently unbothered by the lack of an answer. "He was insufferable, even then."

To punctuate the sentiment he downed one of the glasses in a single swig, tilting his head back and showcasing his bobbing Adam’s apple. It felt uncaringly intimate. Under most circumstances, Hannibal would have found Dimmond's behavior demonstrably rude- but something about his charismatic tone and similarity to Will kept the part of Hannibal that kept track of such things pleasantly subdued. Besides, Hannibal himself was using thoughts of his beloved to carry a conversation at the level required of this sort of event. And his beloved had been  _ very  _ rude.

"Have you ever read one of his books?" Dimmond asked, plowing through Hannibal’s polite silence. Hannibal raised his eyebrows in a facade of interest. Dimmond smirked, leaning in conspiratorially, and said in a soft whisper, "They're terrible. You know they're terrible. you're just too polite to say. Blink if you agree."

It seemed almost certain now that he may have been flirting. And while the man had been wrong about Hannibal having met Dr. Fell, he was undeniably right about the books. They  _ were _ terrible. Atrocious, one might even say. It took a lot to get on Hannibal's list by literary merit alone, but Dr. Fell was an exceptional author. And besides, who was Hannibal to deny a request from such a handsome man? And so, Hannibal Lecter blinked obligingly. And Anthony smiled at him.

“See? I knew it.” 

If this wasn’t flirtation, than Hannibal was more out of practice than he thought. Anthony swirled the champagne in his remaining glass and sighed.

“That doesn’t stop him squatting over his keyboard and depositing a fresh one every six to eight months, of course. Meanwhile, it takes me six to eight months to write one line. “

“Why?” Hannibal asked, taking a sip out of his own glass. He already knew the answer. Poets weren’t hard to spot once one admitted to being a writer.

“Poetry is hard,” Anthony responded earnestly. Hannibal allowed himself to preen, proud of getting even something so easy right. “Too hard for Roman, certainly. It’s easier for him to slide into academia and dissect the work of others than it is to stand by his own words.”

“One can appreciate another’s words without dissecting them,” Hannibal pointed out. He was familiar with the type Dimmond was referring to. They bored him terribly. In some strange way, speaking with Anthony reminded him of his conversations with Will. “Though, on occasion, dissection is the only thing that will do.“

“Spoken like a true artist. Or, perhaps, a doctor,” A new voice interjected smoothly.

Hannibal stiffened. The voice was familiar... but it was so out of place, so  _ impossible,  _ that Hannibal was sure he had misheard. Anthony Dimmond acknowledged the intruder with a fond smile, offering him the second, still-full glass. The man reached for it gratefully. Hannibal tried not to let his shock show.

Before him stood Will Graham, looking perfectly at home surrounded by golden filigree and pretentious academics. Ever handsome, well manicured, wearing what was clearly a bespoke suit. The fabric showcased Will in a way polyester and flannel never could. It embraced his planes and curves instead of concealing them, seams effortlessly tracing the lines of his body in a subdued celebration of the human form.

Hannibal felt the room spin subtly. It felt as though the floor had been pulled out from beneath him. Will ignored him, falling easily into Dimmond’s embrace. Hannibal finally felt the weight of the situation slam into him.

Will pulled Dimmond into a brief kiss. The two men’s bodies melted together, Will’s empathy on clear display as he allowed himself to be molded and positioned to Dimmond’s whim. Once the kiss had been broken, Will tucked himself into Dimmond, guiding the other man into a casual but undeniably tender position, his head resting near Will’s neck. Clearly, the posturing was meant to taunt the doctor. His suspicions were confirmed when Will finally looked at him, revealing the feral glint in his piercing blue eyes. He saw the beast that had been growing beneath Will’s broken façade since he had realized what Hannibal was. 

While Will’s eyes glowed with ferocious recognition, his face betrayed none of their fraught history. Hannibal felt strangely proud.

“Introduce me to your friend, Anthony?” Will asked sensually, his fingers skating over Anthony’s lithe frame as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Of course,” Anthony responded, focused on Will even as he spoke. “Boris Jakov, I’d like you to meet my partner, Will Graham. Will, dearest, meet Boris Jakov.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Doctor Jakov,” Will said, innocently offering a hand. Hannibal shook it warmly and without hesitation. He refused to admit that he had been thrown off guard. Will may be a prodigy, but Hannibal was the master.

“Doctor?” Hannibal asked curiously. He had not mentioned his profession and wanted to see how Will might explain away the knowledge. “How are you so sure?”

“I know your type,” Will said with a conspiratorial smile. A little joke for them alone. Clearly, this Will had developed a taste in jokes not dissimilar to those Hannibal had made at his own dinner table.

“I’m not sure I’m acquainted with  _ your _ type, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal responded with a tight-lipped smile. It was easy to fall back into the patterns of this game. The dance had become as familiar as breathing to the man.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be. Will is one of a kind,” Dimmond interrupted eagerly. Hannibal’s eyebrows quirked slightly. Now that his beloved had made an appearance, the man’s rudeness was far more evident. He was truly a pale imitation. Next to the original piece, his flaws were glaring and obnoxious. 

“I was a profiler for the FBI,” Will interjected before Dimmond could add more to the conversation. Clearly, he felt the same.

“Was?” Hannibal responded softly. His gaze did not waver. An unspoken challenge.

“My work changed me. I’m sure you can relate,” Will replied, holding Hannibal’s eyes steadily. A half-smile flitted onto his face. “I outgrew that stage of my life. Got too big for the pond, you could say. And I had saved enough money over the years that moving to Europe to make a new life wasn’t entirely unrealistic.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling. My life has taken a similar trajectory, as of late,” Hannibal offered with an almost gentle smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Roman Fell making his moves to leave. The smile did not change, but his expression grew subtly cooler.

Will followed Hannibal’s gaze back towards Roman. He raised an eyebrow, hiding the motion with a glance back to Dimmond, who seemed willingly distracted by Will’s body pressed against his own.

“Anthony?” He asked coquettishly, “Would you get our coats? I think Dr. Jakov may be ready to leave. We should probably do the same.”

Dimmond looked at the man in his arms, his smile full of sensual promise. “For you, my dear? Anything.” Dimmond kissed the former profiler posessively, holding him tighter for a moment before reluctantly unwrapping himself and turning to address Hannibal with a grin.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jakov. Until we meet again!” With a final flourish, and one last doe-eyed glance at Will, Anthony Dimmond turned and retreated into the crowd.

Will watched him go with an unreadable expression. When the man was out of sight, he rolled his neck and leaned towards Hannibal with an amused, hungry expression. “So sorry about him, Doctor. Possessiveness can be an attractive trait, but he hasn’t yet perfected it. He often comes off as  _ rude _ .”

“No need to worry. Your presence far outshines any tarnish Mr. Dimmond may have left on this lovely evening.” Although the smile Hannibal gave was nothing more than polite, his eyes were full of mirth. Will smirked. His posture changed to something more predatory.

“It looked like your dinner guest was on the move,” He murmured, stepping closer to the doctor. “I better let you deliver your _ invitation.  _ Wouldn’t want you to lose your chance.” 

“I’m sure my guest can wait,” Hannibal replied, bringing a wistful hand up to Will’s face. It felt a strange parody of how they had stood over Clark Ingram. It felt so long ago, now.

“Yes,” Will whispered, staring at Hannibal’s lips almost mournfully. “But Anthony Dimmond cannot.” 

The air crackled with invisible tension. Hannibal took in the sight of his beloved and wished, not for the first time, that his relationship with Will had been one where this could become a kiss. He felt certain that, should he make such a move, it would be reciprocated… but now was not a time to take chances. He prepared to say the necessary goodbyes.

Before Hannibal could even begin to form his next words, Will had closed the gap between them, bringing their lips together in a deep, passionate kiss. It seemed to last only a moment before he was pulling away, leaving Hannibal ravenous for more.

“Until we meet again,  _ Doctor Lecter, _ ” Will breathed into Hannibal’s mouth. He untangled himself from the embrace smoothly. Hannibal simply stared, feeling, for the first time in a very long time, truly shocked.

With one final, lingering look, Will Graham turned and melted into the crowd.


	2. Adago ma non troppo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has another chance encounter with Will Graham. This time it's at the Palazzo Capponi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bud @pure_enthusiasm again in here with the making this chapter bang so hard

Hannibal’s work at the Palazzo Capponi was a lot easier than psychiatric work. It was good to be back in the world of the idle rich who where paid to talk about Dante all day. The Palazzo was beautiful, and books and artifacts found within its collection were everything Hannibal had dreamed of since his youth here. 

It was good to be back in Florence. Back in place that had formed him, made him Il’ Monstro. It would be a beautiful place for Will’s becoming as well. Or it would have been if Will hadn’t betrayed their bound a forced Hannibal’s hand. Part of Hannibal blamed himself for what may have been an over reaction back in his Baltimore kitchen, but he didn’t regret it. Sure, he missed Will, but their relationship had been far too volatile in the end. They had barely survived each other in the end. They where both better off this way. 

Hannibal tried to push the past out of his mind as he strolled his way out of the Palazzo. The architecture of these ancient streets was nearly distraction enough. But they didn’t stop the feeling of the ghost of what could have been from feeling close enough for Hannibal to touch. Hannibal could swear he heard the warm timbre of Hannibal’s voice in the chiming of the bells that rung out over the city to mark the hour. And then Hannibal wasn’t so sure it was an illusion when he heard it again.

“Hello! Bonjour!” Hannibal’s head turned to see who had spoken the words. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“Mr. Jakov isn’t it?” Will asked approaching Hannibal “We met in Paris a few months back.” 

Hannibal was startled but the intrusion was more then welcome. Hannibal’s eyes wracked over Will’s body drinking in the sight of the other man. Seeing Will again filled Hannibal with much energy and so many regrets Hannibal could barely stand it. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, it’s just… here I was and then, there you were…” Will ripped all those feelings away as he made excuses as if their life together had never existed. His own eyes only reaching Hannibal’s face as he finished his thought with: “I never forget a face” 

“Will Graham.” Hannibal said, careful to perform the same level of detachment Will was displaying.

“Nice to be remembered.” Will answered warmly and sincerely. 

“You’re hard to forget.” It was so honest. So heart wrenchingly, brutally honest and Hannibal meant it with his entire being. He meant every syllable so deep down in his soul and he wasn’t sure he could take the admission back, even if he tried.  
Will stilled for a moment. Reflecting on and excepting the true meaning of what Hannibal had just said. But now wasn’t time for truths and Will knew if he made a misstep now there wouldn’t be a later for the two of them so he let it go. 

“What are you doing in Florence” Will asked as if he didn’t already know. “Are you working with Roman?” 

“Dr. Fell?” Hannibal asked blankly. Inside he was preening. Will had been good at this little game back when they had first met but Hannibal had shaped him into a master. And there was no opponent Hannibal would rather have. 

“Anthony told me he took an appointment as the Capponi Library.” Hannibal bristled at the mention of the other man. It was only natural. And that had probably been Will’s point in bringing him up.

“Yes, he’s the new curator and translator at the Palazzo Capponi” Hannibal said blankly. 

“Evidently, the last one eloped with a woman” Will winked. “Or someone’s money or both.” 

“That’s the commonly held belief” Hannibal returned in jest. It was just like old times. But Hannibal knew he couldn’t let that last. Let either one of them get to comfortable and the world would find some way to make it all come crashing down. “You just missed Roman, if you where looking to see him.” 

“Did I?” Will’s tone didn’t match his words. His message was clear. It wasn’t Roman Fell he was looking for. Hannibal wasn’t sure how to respond but Will had forgiven him his falter earlier so he let Will by with his own and stayed silent. “Well, Anthony wanted me to pass along a message” 

“Did you not travel to Florence together?” Hannibal was actually surprised by the implications of that. 

“No, sadly his path ended in Paris while mine continued on for a bit longer.” Will licked his lips and smirked. Then bitterly he added “It’s fine though I’ve been traveling alone for long enough I should get use to people leaving me behind” 

“Is it not intimidating to be this far from home alone?” Hannibal mused.

“Intimidating? No. But sometimes I’m a little afraid of what I’ll find at the end of my journey. But I’m bitter enough about where I started that I’m not looking to turn back any time soon.” 

“Dante wrote that fear is almost as bitter as death.” That was a familiar pater. This was a conversation they both knew. Let Will say something profound and passive aggressive towards Hannibal and watch Hannibal respond with something about Dante and the illusion he had misunderstood the point. 

“Dante wasn’t dead when he wrote it.” Will answered simply 

“Do you see yourself as being dead Will?” And there was a familiar question. To the outside world they were just another two scholars stood in this courtyard discussing Dante like so many had before but to them it was as if they where back in that familiar Baltimore office. 

“You don’t have to be dead to have gone through hell, Doctor…” Will trailed off. It was too familiar, he had nearly slipped up. Hannibal had felt himself on the verge of doing the same. 

“If you’ll still be in town, Roman is speaking to the Studiolo Friday, on Dante. You should come” Hannibal threw in his last attempt to save the conversation. “You could deliver your message then.” 

“Sounds appropriately hellish.” Will said with a small smile and a dark chuckle. 

In another life he could have said the words seriously. Hannibal could hear it. He heard the way the old Will Graham would have said those words. Before Hannibal had gotten in his head. Cold and bitter. The biting tone he would have used if Hannibal had invited him to the opera for instance. Not the humor laden sarcastic tone he used now. Hannibal missed the old Will Graham but by the same token he wouldn’t trade the Will he had now for anything. Will could feel that echo of the past too. Their eyes met for a moment. All the emotions behind their empty words welling up until it got to painful to stand and Will ripped his eyes away from Hannibal’s. 

“And what exactly will Dr. Fell be lecturing about?” Will said eyes downcast. 

“Mhh” Hannibal hummed. “Betrayal.” 

Will’s eyes snapped to Hannibal’s “And Dante?” He asked. 

“Naturally.” 

“Is there a lot of material there?” Will pondered.

“I don’t know Will.” Hannibal responded acerbically “I’m not the one claiming to have been through hell.” 

“You sound bitter about that” Will said with a sad smile. “I don’t recommend holding grudges Doctor. I’ve heard it spoils the meat. Till Friday?”  
“Yes.” Was all Hannibal had time to say before Will turned to leave. And Hannibal Lecter was left alone in the court yard of the Palazzo Capponi with only the echoes of past and present to keep him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this one really goes back and forth a lot? Also Will is so OOC i had one moment when he was so painfully in character I started crying. 
> 
> For your consideration:  
> https://youtu.be/vdiEmefmyhg


	3. Allegro Morado

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, its been a MOMENT since I updated this fic. It be like that sometimes. Anyways, here's chapter 3 hot off the presses, edited but not beta read in case you're noticing the sudden dip in quality. Like always Dialogue (almost all of it at least) is directly from the show. 
> 
> here's our third movement: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MM-qsS3m5kQ

The ancient walls of the Palazzo Capponi rang with anticipation for Roman Fell’s first presentation as curator. The powerful man who stood at the front of the room only bore a passing resemblance to the real Dr. Fell but that hardly mattered as long as he performed just as well. The Palazzo may play host to academic events but it was as much of a performance as an opera. On the part of the lecturer and the attendees. The wealthy florentines who had today found themselves perched softly on the edge of thin golden chairs of the hall attended events like this to be seen at them more so than to see the event. And so was Hannibal Lecter. 

Scanning the crowd from the front of the room Hannibal couldn’t help but bask in the totality of it all. After all, for him this wasn't just a performance it was about finally being seen by the one man who mattered to him. That’s what this was all about. Bedelia has been correct about how lonely it could get behind a veil. 

The clock at the back of the room signaled it was time to begin the talk and Hannibal took the last moment he could to try and locate Will in the crowd. He felt his heart grow cold when he found he could not locate the younger man. Hannibal felt slighted that his Will would do him such an impropriety but he had a job to do. Hannibal straightened up and the entire crowd studied it’s attention on him. So Hannibal Begin: 

“In accord with my own tastes in for the pre-Renaissance, I present the case of Pietro della Vigna, whose treachery earned him a place in Dante’s Hell. He was disgraced and blinded for betraying his emperor’s trust.” 

“Dante’s Pilgrim finds him in the seventh level of the Inferno, reserved for suicides. Like Judas Iscariot, he died by hanging. Judas and Pietro della Vigna are linked in Dante’s Inferno. Betrayal, hanging… then, linked since antiquity, the image appearing again and again in art. This is the earliest known depiction of the Crucifixion, carved on an ivory box in Gaul about A.D. four hundred. It includes the death by hanging of Judas, his face upturned to the branch that suspends him. On the doors of the Benevento Cathedral we see Judas hanging with his bowels falling out. And here, from a fifteenth-century edition of The Inferno, is Pietro della Vigna’s body hanging from a bleeding tree. I won’t belabor the parallels with Jucas Iscariot. Betrayal, hanging, self-destruction. ‘Lo fei gibetto a me de la mie case.’ “I make my own home be my gallows.” 

*-*-*-*

The speech was not unfamiliar to Hannibal. It had, in some form, been percolating in his mind since the fateful night in his Baltimore kitchen. In its infancy the words about betrayal and faith would have ideally been whispered directly into Will’s ear. But in the end, the grand architecture of the Palazzo made for a stage Hannibal had only dreamed of.

“Thank you for your kind attention" Hannibal said, drawing this part of his his performance to a close. In response a dry applause rang out at those final words as Hannibal basked in the attention of the Capponi. 

As Hannibal watched the crowd flowed out from the hall, he felt his eyes catch on a familiar figure. Will Graham sat, one leg crossed over the other, perched on the end of one of the dainty golden chairs that made up the seating in the hall. Will’s eyes locked on to Hannibal, as if sensing the doctor’s gaze. This Will Graham was a far cry from the man who couldn't even look Hannibal in the eye when they had first met in Jack Crawford’s office. But now those once guarded blue eyes of Will’s were full of some dark twisted kind of mirth, a look Hannibal recognized from the mirror. 

Will’s mouth quirked in a smile as he rose from his seat. Hannibal wished he could smile back but there was far to much at stake in this game. Instead, he turned back the podium which still held the notes from his lecture. Hannibal tried to focus on organizing his papers, letting but come to him, but Will was far to tempting. He found he could hardly help himself from sneaking glances at Will’s approaching form. Hannibal would scarcely have recognized the man before him as Will Graham had he not forged the man himself. This Will Graham carried himself with so much confidence and charm even Hannibal could probably have been convicted Will had always been this way. 

There was a cough off to his left and Hannibal noticed Professor Sogliato standing far closer to him than was strictly necessary. It was only threw year of practice that Hannibal was able to suppress a sneer at Sogliato’s rudeness. The man was a bother, yes. But he was also the last person standing in the way of Hannibal’s formal recognition as Curator at the Palazzo.

“Would you say I secured my position, Professor Sogliato?” 

“The Studiolo seem… satisfied” Sogliato replied. Hannibal could tell he did not necessarily share the sentiment. But that wasn't important. Not when Will Graham stood hovering over Sogliato’s shoulder 

“Satisfied?” Will cut in with the kind of confidence one tended to find only in academics and psychopaths. “I thought the applause was downright enthusiastic in its soft and dusty way.” 

“Dottore Fell is a friend of yours?” Soligatu asked not even turning to acknowledge Will even as he spoke directly to the other man.

“I used to teach.” Will answered coyly “Doctor Fell’s unique body of work was very useful to myself and my students.So naturally he has to show up and get himself involved. The Tales I could tell.” Will added conspiratorially before offering a coy smile towards Hannibal. Who offered a tentative tight lipped smile of his own not sure where Will was taking the conversation. 

“Please do.” Soligatu jumped at the chance to get more information about the man he knew as Roman Fell. 

Will had always claimed to be a great fisherman but when Hannibal had been dangling on the end of his hook he hadn’t realized the full extent of the other man’s skills. Will’s proficiency was on clear display to him now. 

“What kind of friend would I be?” Will answered warmly, his eyes had locked onto Hannibal’s face. “To tell such stories in a public setting.”

“What kind of friend, indeed.” Soligautu replied in a way that insinuated he understood Will’s words to imply a relation that less than platonic. Soligautu was probably a wiser man than Hannibal had given him credit for. Or maybe Hannibal had given his own subtlety too much credit when it came to his less than professional interest in Will. Soliagatu bowed to Hannibal with a quick “Dottore” before turning on his heal and making his way quickly out of the hall. 

As the sound of Soliagatu’s footsteps grew quieter, the small smile on Will’s lips grew into a conspiratorial grin. Hannibal kept his lips pressed together and only raised his eyebrows, trying to conceal his mirth. Will stepped slightly closer to Hannibal as if he had something he wanted to say. But instead it only provided Hannibal a better vantage point when Will’s charming mask faltered for a second. Leaving only the broken down Will of long ago. Will tuned to look at the display cases filled with old weapons and torture devices, gather himself again no doubt.

“An exposition of Atrocious Torture Instruments appeals to the connoisseurs of the very worst in mankind” Will announced wandering down the row, peering at the gruesome objects behind the glass. 

“Now that ceaseless exposure has calloused us into the lewd and the vulgar. It is instructive to see what still seems wicked to us.” Hannibal replied evenly, words dripping with unspoken offer and excuse. Will scoffed. 

“What still slaps the clammy flab of our submissive consciousness hard enough to get our attention?” Will spit the words with a surprising amount of venom for the mirth he has been showing in the conversation. 

Hannibal licked his lips.

“What wickedness has your attention, Mr. Graham?” Hannibal said harshly, daring Will to answer in the honest way they both knew he would have to. 

“Yours… Dr. Fell.” Will responded in a heavy, wicked tone. “I”m under no delusions about morality; You removed such delusions from my mind a long time ago. If I still had them I would be here with the full force of the FBI. I can’t help to wonder what fate befell Dr. Fell to see you here in his stead. Then I could tell you what happened to Anthony” 

“You may have to strap me too the Breaking Wheel to loosen my tongue” Hannibal leaned close to Will, delivering the words is lilt bordering on erotic. 

“You overestimate my level of empathy for the genuine Dr. Fell. My tastes have changed Doctor, you saw the that. I found Dr. Fell just as distasteful as you.“ Will replied exasperated. 

“On the contrary, Will” Hannibal smiled and Will’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance and understanding. 

“We can twist ourselves into all manner of uncomfortable positions just to maintain appearances.” Will replied in quiet, even tone. His eyes snapping to bore into Hannibal’s own before adding: “with or without a breaking wheel” 

“Are you here to twist me into uncomfortable positions Will?” Hannibal raised his eyebrows. Despite Will’s implications he was here on his own Hannibal couldn’t help but find he didn’t exactly believe that. 

“I’m here to help you untwist to our mutual benefit” Will show his head slightly, smiling benevolently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos, Comments, whatever. 
> 
> This is going to be the end of this fic, half because there's only 3 moments to this concerto and also because I want more freedom to finish this AU without leaving the work unfinished and I just really like how these chapters do as a set.
> 
> Also, Please go back and watch this scene from the actual ep. really closely. Because like however horny I made the breaking wheel bit, it's way hornier in the show. Also every time I mention Hannibal licking his lips, it is cannon and directly from the episode. I would never do that by choice i hate when characters lick their lips lmao

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter @HannibalAus for Terrible Hannibal AUs that are normally way worse than this 
> 
> I would have said all this at the beginning but it feels weird to start out with "so i wrote a fill for my own prompt", SO: I've been in the Hannibal Fandom since season 2 was airing and I finally feel like my writing is good enough to share with all you amazing and creative people. This fandom has always been an amazing and very special place for me and I can't believe all the support my twitter has gotten after less than a month of activity !?!?! it's a crazy feeling. I love ya'll. Hope this fic does my own idea justice lol  
> (also i can't believe other people want to write their own versions of this!?! Please still do!!! I hate my own writing so other people doing something similar means I can read the premise without hating myself lol )


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